


A Christmas K-Cup Story

by Sidi



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: A little angst, Christmas, Cute, Fluff, Holidays, Keith is a poor college student, Lance is wealthy, M/M, Mistletoe, Mostly Fluff, Package thief, and lonely, cuban food, happy holidays, klance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 13:46:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17142863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sidi/pseuds/Sidi
Summary: In a moment of desperation, Keith steals a package and changes his life.





	A Christmas K-Cup Story

**Author's Note:**

> This is a tumblr prompt that I cannot find for the life of me. I will link it if I find it again! This is basically just some quick Christmas fluff that I personally needed after spending time with my family.

Keith is hungry.

It had been a bad year. He is trying to finish community college classes. His hours had been cut due to his availability with said classes. He is barely affording his apartment at the moment. Worse yet, he cannot ask Shiro for any money. Shiro had had a lot of medical bills lately and, thankfully, everything is fine, but he knows that Shiro and his husband, Adam, are tight on money as well.

So Keith is hungry and tired and cold and tired of being hungry and tired and cold.

He isn’t a bad person, but when he walks by a nice-looking house with homey Christmas decorations and a big tree out front, a slender tendril of bitterness emerges. It looks so warm and inviting. So comfortable. So different from his own crappy apartment. Then, he sees a package on the front porch. He pauses.

If he could only sell or return something...or even luck out and get a gift card of some sort. If only.

So, without thinking, he pulls his hoodie to cover up his face and then runs up the porch and grabs the package. Like something out of a horror movie, the garage door starts sliding open at that moment. He should just drop the package and run or pretend to be canvassing for Jesus or something, but he panics. So, he runs with the package instead, even as, presumably, the owner’s pops his head out, looking at him in surprise.

The man is tall, Latino, and, if he wasn’t stealing from him, also very cute.

As he runs, he hears the man yelling out, “Hey, you know that is just my order of K-cups right?!”

Later, quite unfortunately, Keith realizes that the man was telling the truth. A set of 100 K-cups of Gevalia coffee. Keith feels like crying. He had just sacrificed his dignity and become a thief for K-cups of all things.

He decides that Adam and Shiro are getting K-cups for Christmas and then goes back to being hungry. He eats a piece of bread for dinner and manages to sneak into a Christmas party on campus to gorge himself on the free food.

He prays he will make it until January when he can pick up more hours and perhaps finally be able to feed himself.

He avoids walking by the K-cup house for a while. He could be arrested or attacked by the K-cup man. He could be recognized. But, it is the most direct path to walk to his work since his motorcycle broke down and he eventually starts walking that way again. He just never wears that hoodie again.

One day, while walking, he sees a strange package outside the same house. It is wrapped like a Christmas present rather than the brown box delivery packaging. It is also on the side of the driveway and not on the porch at all. Keith slows again. He hasn’t eaten in close to 24 hours. He is honest to god thinking about standing outside a gas station and begging for food. But here is this package, wrapped in fire engine red, enticing him, calling to him.

He can already feel tears pricking his eyes as he degrades himself once again, snatching the package and running.

When he gets this package home, he is surprised by what he sees. Inside is food. Not just food, but delicious food, in labelled Tupperware containers. Arroz con pollo, pulpeta, ropa vieja, picadillo cua cua. He doesn’t know what some of the words mean, but it all looks delicious.

Then, there is a loaf of pumpkin ginger dessert bread and some cookies.

Keith is panting, already thinking about how this saves him. He can milk this through December and survive.

The surprises keep coming as he digs though the box. At the bottom, there is also a strange bag that is like a travel kit. Toothpaste, a toothbrush, a cheap razor and shaving cream, deodorant, bath wash, warm socks, gloves, and a beanie. Finally, a card.

His hand trembles as he opens it.

Inside, there is a big shiny card with sparkles everywhere. More importantly, a 100 dollar Kroger gift card.

Keith legitimately starts crying at this point. In gratitude, but also guilt.

He feels guilty about stealing this particular package. He imagines someone’s mom toiling over this food, thinking of her son and sending him a care package. Then, it being snatched by someone like Keith.

He opens the card, expecting to see Love, Mom written inside or something.

He drops the card like it is a snake when he reads it though.

_Hey man. I know everyone struggles sometimes. Enjoy the food. Text me some time?_

Then, a number.

Surely not, Keith thinks. Surely not.

He sits on it for a few days, dying over the amazing food and carefully buying some basics at Kroger to last him awhile. Rice. Pasta. Ramen. Beans.

Then, he finally gives in and texts the number.

Keith: Is this the K-Cup guy?

K-Cup: Is this the guy who stole my K cups? J

Keith: It has been a rough December. I will pay you back as soon as I get the money. I promise.

Keith had already decided to do this. He has pride. He isn’t a thief. He didn’t want to be. He is trying so hard to better himself, to go to school, to live a decent life. He would pay this man back every cent, every last dollar.

K-Cup: It’s fine dude. Do you like the food?

Keith: It is amazing. Did your mom cook it?

K-Cup: Excuse you, I cooked all of that myself. They are my mom’s recipes tho

The weight and confirmation of what this man had done for him in his time of need strikes him.

Keith: I was really hungry. I don’t know how to repay you but I want you to know that this is literally helping me survive.

K-Cup: Hey, its alright. We all have bad times. All you need to do is ask if you are hungry.

Keith puts his phone down, humiliated.

He avoids that path again for another week before he gives in and takes the most direct route to his work again. It is too cold to take the long route. He walks swiftly, not glancing over at the house at all.

On his way home, he power walks by the house, except, suddenly, the man leaps out from behind the two tall bushes that frame the driveway.  

Keith cries out, stumbling backward, ready to throw a punch to protect himself.

“Hey, dude, no, its fine, I just wanted to actually meet you!”

He looks the man up and down. He looks friendly, open. Like he might be serious. He drops his gaze in shame.

“Uh, hi,  K-cup. I will pay you back. I promise. I just need to get through January and…”

“I already told you it is fine. Also, my name is Lance. Did I ever tell you? Want to come inside?”

“Uh…”

“I have fancy hot chocolate.”

“Uh…”

“Also, I am lonely.”

Keith prays to whatever god might be watching that he isn’t secretly an axe murderer and then finally nods.

This is how he finds himself in one of the nicest houses he has ever seen. Vaulted ceilings, an open layout, light blue accent walls, stainless steel kitchen appliances. Keith looks around in amazement while this Lance prattles on and makes ridiculous hot chocolate, made with a coffee machine that looks like it could be in a café, topped with holiday sprinkles and swirled whipped cream.

He learns that Lance is new to America, that he is here to establish his family’s food business in America, that his mom is the best cook ever, that he hasn’t made that many friends here yet except a man named Hunk, that he has a dog back home, that blue is his favorite color, that he has watched Keith walk by his house for quite some time and wanted to say hi before, and that he is sorry about the mess, which seems to be referring to random gifts in various stages of being wrapped laying around the house.

Keith doesn’t offer much up in return. He tells Lance that he is finishing community college. That his motorcycle broke down. He mentions the apartment building where he lives. His favorite color is red.

He promises again and again that he will pay the money back to Lance, but the man just laughs and waves his hand like it is no big deal.  

Lance makes him promise to come by again and only lets him leave after putting some of the fancy hot chocolate in a travel mug for him.

So, the next week, he finds himself in Lance’s house again. This time, he has homemade egg nog and bruschetta for a “light treat he whipped up.” They chat aimlessly. Keith opens up a bit more about his job and what he wants to do in the future. He tells him about Shiro, mentioning what he does for a living and his husband Adam. Lance chatters about everything, from a dog he saw this morning to the weather. Toward the end of the visit, he tells Keith to wait and runs up the stairs. He charges back down the stairs a moment later with two huge bags in his hands.

Inside the bags are clothes. A red hoodie. A red jacket. Some pants. Some nice thermals. A few shirts. Silk boxers. Keith is baffled.

“Oh, while I was out I saw some things I thought you might like.” Lance shrugs like its no big deal.

“This is…this is name brand shit. Lance, I can’t take this.”

“I threw out the receipt! Oops! So you have to keep them.”

“I can’t. You keep them.”

“Too much red. Also, we aren’t the same exact size. Just, come on. The hoodie you usually wear hurts me to look at. I got these on discount anyway.”

Lance is hard to say no to though and he finds himself walking home with the bags of clothes.

He puts on the red jacket later that day. It fits perfectly. It is soft and warm. Keith hugs himself, trying to think of the last time someone had done something so nice for him.

*********

They also start texting regularly. Mostly memes, good mornings, complaints about traffic. Keith enjoys it though. He doesn’t have a lot of friends and Lance is so nice and so cute. They start texting enough that Shiro even begins teasing him, smirking whenever they are together and Keith picks up the phone.

“So, when can we meet your boyfriend?”

“God, Shiro, he is just a…friend.”

“I know I buy all my friends nice red leather jackets!” Adam chimes in.

“I hate both of you.”

It doesn’t stop him from picking up his phone and answering every time Lance texts him.

*********

One morning, Keith walks outside of his apartment to see someone crouching near his motorcycle. Ok, so it is broken down, but it is still his pride and joy and he will fix it one day when he has the money. He charges over, ready to fight when he sees that the stranger is not crouching so much as _fixing_ his motorcycle. There are parts laying next to him on a towel and he is tightening a screw as Keith walks up.

“What the hell are you doing?”

The strange man jumps. “Ah! Oh! Keith? Is it Keith? Lance sent me. My name is Hunk.”

“Lance sent you?”

“Yeah, he mentioned you were having motorcycle issues so I checked it out last week and got the parts in today. It will be good as new as soon as I finish. I also brought you some gas.”

Keith narrows his eyes.

The food. Ok. Lance is a nice person. The clothes, fine. But this. This is starting to feel like something else. He quickly makes his way to Lance’s house, banging on the door until Lance opens the door, bleary eyed.

“Keith? What’s wrong?”

“What is your game?”

“My game?”

“Why are you paying for my shit?”

“I just want to help.”

“No one is that nice.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Are you buying me?”

“Is it working?” Lance winks and Keith’s heart almost explodes.

“I’m not a prostitute.”

“I don’t want a prostitute.”

“Lance, I don’t think I can do this anymore. I am sorry.”

Then he leaves, feeling a pit of sorrow in his chest. Lance is wealthy though. That much is clear. And, it feels wrong. Too imbalanced. Like Lance secretly wants something or, if not, will eventually become bitter that Keith could never return his generosity.

*********

Keith spends Christmas Eve at a stupid Christmas party with Shiro and Adam and a few other scattered friends. Allura and Romelle, Pidge and Matt. It is fine. He is perfectly fine being with couples and families. He only feels a little out of place and alone. Nothing out of the ordinary.

He finds a good place to brood, clutching a glass of egg nog (not as good as Lance’s) and watching the first bits of snow falling from the sky from the living room. He vaguely registers the door opening and closing again in the background, but he is lost in thoughts about blue eyes and how a red leather jacket can feel like home if you are cold enough.

Then, he feels a tap on his shoulder and turns to see the same blue eyes of his dreams.

“Lance??”

“The one and only!”

“Why are you here? How are you here?”

He looks at Shiro’s smug face across the room.

“It’s a long story, but I know your brother through work. Sort of. Like, I catered one of their lunches one time. And you mentioned your brother’s name and his husband and I put two and two together. Anyway, I talked to him and he invited me…”

Keith grabs his shoulder and drags him backward into the kitchen where they can have some privacy.

“This is weird, ok? It is weird.”

“Yes it is, but…hey are these my K-cups?!”

“Lance, focus.”

“Right, sorry. Yes, it is weird. But, and I am not sure if I am getting the wrong picture here, but I think you are cute and I think you think I am cute too.”

Keith searches Lance’s face, looking for the hidden motive.

“Will you go on an actual date with me? And, also, give me permission to spoil you?”

Keith’s eyes narrow. He likes Lance, but it just feels too good to be true.

“Just give me a chance? That is all I am asking for…” Lance gives him puppy dog eyes.

And, hell. Something about the snow, the sparkling decorations, even the people in the other room pretending not to listen when they totally were. Maybe Keith does deserve to give Lance a chance, to give himself a chance at happiness.  

He smiles and nods. “A date. We can go on a date.”

Lance grins in response. “And now, it is law during Christmas,” he says slyly, pointing up. Keith looks up to see mistletoe hanging over their heads. He groans, closing his eyes.

“Fine.”

Lance leans forward and kisses him. It isn’t a deep or long kiss by any means. It is gentle, more of a promise than anything else.

“That was nice,” Lance murmurs afterward, reaching up and running a hand through Keith’s hair.  “Also, I am making an appointment for you and my hairdresser tomorrow.”

“What?”

“You have split ends, Keith. And when is the last time you have deep conditioned?”

“Never?”

“Oh my god.”

“How much will this cost?”

“Let’s just say you are about to have a very nice head of hair.”

“Lance!”

Lance laughs, hugging him tightly, twirling him around in a circle. Keith is so happy he barely hears his embarrassing brother cheering them on from the living room.

**Author's Note:**

> Voltron can shove Curtis Adam 4ever :p :p :p :p


End file.
